


Hunger

by Bandity



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Eating Disorders, Friendship, Gen, Harry Potter & Ron Weasley Friendship, How Do I Tag, Hurt/Comfort, Ron Weasley-centric, Vomiting
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-01-04
Updated: 2016-01-04
Packaged: 2018-05-11 17:08:48
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,316
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5635036
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Bandity/pseuds/Bandity
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Ron thought he was so discreet and surely nobody would notice this habit he had developed, right? One-shot. No pairings. Cross-posted on ffnet.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Hunger

**Author's Note:**

> Warnings for Eating Disorders and vomiting. Please don't read if that is going to trigger you.  
> Also, this was gift for a friend who loves Ron and doesn't like really happy endings. This is only the second thing for Harry Potter I've written, so it might be a bit rough.
> 
> This is the first thing I am posting on this site and I'm not used to the format yet, sorry if it looks weird or anything.

It wasn’t that Ron had ever starved as a child. Despite their family’s lack of funds and the many mouths to feed, there was always food on the table even when the Weasley family was going through difficult times. However, there was a limit. If one waited too long, the best food would be claimed by an older sibling and the plates would soon be emptied. Fortunately, being in a world with magic, food could be multiplied and enlarged. However, it couldn’t be made out of nothing. So if greedy older siblings ate it all before anything could be done, that was it. Older brothers going through growth spurts always inhaled food as quickly as it was put down on the table and Ron would find himself fighting for his portion and, often, his younger sister’s. More than once he had given Ginny the last bit of bacon or the last piece of pie, so she wouldn’t have to reach for herself and lose a hand to her constantly ravenous, growing brothers. Their parents always made sure everyone got something on their plates, but meals (especially in their younger days) were quite hectic and Ron rarely got seconds of anything. So while Ron had never starved, he knew what it was like to not be able to eat as much as he wanted of the things he enjoyed eating most.

After Ron met Harry, it became apparent that the boy who lived knew exactly what it was like to go without eating. He knew much better than Ron did. So Hogwarts, with its overflowing plates of food and more food, seemed like some kind of miraculous dream come true for the both of them. They both were able to eat as much as they wanted and there would still be more available to them!

When first arriving at the school they would both eat more than their fill, but after a while, the novelty seemed to wear off for Harry. After the school year was in full swing, Harry would begin to eat regular portions while Ron continued to eat anything placed in front of him. Ron didn’t understand why Harry didn’t eat more. Wasn’t he worried that soon he would be back at his Aunt and Uncle’s and he wouldn’t be able to eat what he wanted? Wasn’t he scared of that?

Ron was still only in his first year the first time he threw up after eating. He was grateful to be alone at that moment, because he didn’t know how to explain it. He had been eating dinner (He had been so hungry!) and hadn’t noticed how many plates of food he had moved through. By the time dessert had appeared in front of him, he noticed that his stomach really hurt and he didn’t know how long it had been aching. He pushed the pain aside and moved onto his pudding. However, once he had finished more than his share of the dessert course, he had the most uncomfortable pain stab through his middle and he quickly realized he was going to be sick. Luckily, his two friends had already begun to leave the Great Hall and he fell into step behind them. As soon as the opportunity presented itself, he quietly ducked into the closest boy’s toilet and vomited on the floor. Though he felt disgusted that he hadn’t made it to the actual toilet and that someone was going to have to clean that up, Ron did feel better overall.

After that incident, Ron started to become aware of how much he was eating and he was able to slow himself down. However, there was still the occasion when Ron felt distracted and there was that overwhelming urge to put everything on his plate before it was gone. The food at Hogwarts never ran out, so it was irrational to think the way he did, but it itched at the back of his mind and no matter what, he couldn’t completely be rid of that gnawing, desperate feeling.

Start of term was always the worst. After spending a summer at home with his large family, he always piled his plate too high. Harry did too though, so maybe it wasn’t such a big problem. However, as far as Ron knew, Harry had never made himself sick from eating too much. Still, it wasn’t that big of a deal, was it?  
It wasn’t until Harry caught him in the boy’s bathroom in the beginning of their fourth year, that Ron realized something might not be right with his eating habits.  
“Ron! I-I’ll get Madame Pomfrey,” Harry’s voice had taken on that panicked tone that was usually only reserved for life and death situations. Ron jumped up so fast from his position kneeling in front of the toilet that he tripped and fell to the floor with a crash. “Ron!” Harry shouted, now wavering between running for help and stooping to help his friend.

“I’m alright, Harry!” Ron managed to gasp out from his position on the floor. Harry squinted for a moment at the other boy. He then kneeled down beside him when it became apparent that Ron wasn’t moving to stand up… despite his claims of being alright.

“You don’t look alright.” Harry stated simply. It was true. Ron was pale and had his hair plastered to his forehead with sweat. If it weren’t for his freckles, Harry could have seen the small red dots on Ron’s face, marking where tiny blood vessels had bleed under Ron’s skin due to the exertion of his puking a few moments before.

“I swear, I’m alright.” Ron pushed himself off the floor and Harry made a grab to support him, but Ron shook the helpful hand off. “Something didn’t agree with me, that’s all. I feel better.” Ron paused and watched as Harry gave him a disbelieving look. “Really, Harry.” Ron lifted both his arms slightly in the air, as if this proved his wellbeing. Harry gave a nod finally and led the way out of the boy’s lavatory. However, as he reached the door, Ron stretched out his hand and took hold of the sleeve of Harry’s robe for a moment.  
“Please don’t tell anyone,” Ron whispered and he moved past Harry and out the door before Harry could respond.

  
***

Harry didn’t say anything to anyone. Ron knew this because Hermione didn’t berate him about being sick at any point. So Harry must have kept his mouth shut. However, Ron tried not to notice the way Harry kept an eye on him after that. His friend’s eyes seemed to follow him more closely whenever they were together. It was somewhat discreet at first, but on the tenth time that Harry Potter was following him to the toilet, claiming he had to use the loo too, Ron was done.

“I don’t need anyone to hold my hand on the way to the toilet, you know.”

“I wasn’t going to,” Harry said with a shrug. Ron scrutinized his friend for a moment.

“It’s not whatever you’re thinking it is.”

“I’m not thinking… anything.”

“Fine. “

Harry waited patiently for him by the sinks while he used the toilet. As Ron washed his hands afterwards, he gave Harry a glare.

“I thought you had to go.”

“Don’t have to anymore,” Harry said with another shrug. Ron sighed.

“It’s not on purpose and it’s not going to happen again. Please stop.”

“Stop what?”

“Following me. Watching me. Just stop.”

Harry’s face twitched slightly. “I noticed that you leave after dinner sometimes and you don’t come back for a while.”

Ron stared for a moment. He had never realized. He had always thought he was so sneaky… so clever. So discreet. So overlooked. So… ignored.

“You eat a lot, but you don’t gain weight. Hermione’s pointed it out before. I don’t think she meant anything by it. I think she thinks you must have an extra stomach or something.”

“It’s not… it’s not like that.”

“What is it like then?”

“Nothing. It’s nothing.”

“Well, I’m not going to just leave you alone with it then.”

“Do what you want,” Ron said in exasperation.

True to his word, Harry followed Ron nearly everywhere for weeks… until he didn’t.

The events around the Goblet of Fire had set their friendship on edge and as he spent more meals alone now, he found himself eating without thinking. He shoved forkful after forkful of food down his throat until it had nowhere else to go and when he found himself kneeling on the floor of the boy’s bathroom again, there was nobody there to see.

***  
Ron lost track of how many meals he kept down and how many he didn’t. Judging by the way his throat seemed to hurt all the time from the stomach acid being forced up it, Ron thought he might be losing more food than he realized.

One morning, Ron went to get out of bed, but found the room spinning suddenly. He collapsed back on his bed in surprise and waited for the sensation to pass. After a few moments, Ron wondered if he was maybe not as alright as he originally thought. The room seemed to darken a bit around the edges and Ron gently ran a hand over his chest as he took several deep breaths. Ron moved his hand to his side and felt his ribs. They weren’t jutting out drastically, but he found he could feel each one. How long had they been like that?

The room eventually came back into focus and Ron sat up slowly. He must have been running later than he thought. Everyone else had already left and he was alone in the room.

Time to head down to breakfast.

***  
Harry was speaking to him again. He was incredibly grateful to have his friend back because, to be blunt, he was beginning to scare himself a little and he was pretty sure Hermione had noticed something was wrong with him. He needed Harry to balance things out again. If Harry kept an eye on him, he wouldn’t be running off to the loo to puke up his lunch. He would be able to keep things in control and everything would be alright again.  
…  
Two things went through his mind while he vomited into the toilet bowl that night. One was that he must be an actual idiot and that there was something very, very wrong with him that he couldn’t fix.

Harry awkwardly patted his back and, thankfully, stayed silent. After he was finished retching, Ron leaned back against the stall wall and rubbed his watering eyes. Harry sat back as well, leaning on the wall opposite his friend.

“Say something, Harry,” Ron rasped, pushing his fingers too firmly into his closed eyelids.

“What do you want me to say?” Harry asked quietly.

“Anything.”

Harry fidgeted for a moment. “I wish we were having Quidditch this year.”

Ron’s hands dropped from his face as he let out a huff of a laugh and a smile briefly crossed his face. The two then fell into silence for a time. Ron cleared his throat, but it didn’t help the pain he felt there.

“I’m not doing this again tomorrow,” Ron whispered under his breath.

“…Alright,” Harry responded quietly. With shame, Ron felt the sting of tears beginning to form in his eyes and he squeezed them shut and desperately pressed his fingers into his eyelids to stop the tears from falling.

“I won’t do this again tomorrow. I won’t,” he rasped. Harry shifted, pressing the side of his own shoe against Ron’s.

“Alright,” Harry repeated quietly.

***  
Harry and Ron began sharing plates of food after that. Harry purposefully would not fill his own plate and he would take what he wanted from Ron’s often overflowing one. The first time he did this at breakfast, Ron looked like somebody had slapped him across the face. There was that part of Ron’s mind that shrieked at him that they would run out and if he didn’t eat quickly, he wouldn’t get anything at all. His best friend was going to take all of it. Ron quickly snapped out of it when Harry raised an eyebrow and held the stolen sausage aloft on his fork. Once Ron’s expression had returned to something more neutral, Harry cut the link in two and quickly pushed half of it back onto Ron’s plate.

“It’s alright,” Harry muttered under his breath. Ron gave a small nod and began to eat slowly. Whatever Harry was doing, it could have backfired horribly, but instead of feeling threatened, Ron felt a sense of calm. Harry actually knew what it was like to go hungry. Harry wasn’t going to let him starve and he wasn’t going to let him make himself sick with food. He trusted his friend. Luckily, Hermione had been too busy with her nose in a book to notice the exchange that first morning. After that, if she noticed anything strange about Ron and Harry sharing what was on their plates, she didn’t comment on it.

***  
However, Harry wasn’t always around. Sometimes, he was busy preparing for the Triwizard tournament and other times he was in the hospital wing after taking part in the trials of the Triwizard tournament. There were days that were harder than others and Ron didn’t keep track and the need to eat everything he could and claim he was still hungry afterwards, was still there.

The end of the year was bad. Sometime after Cedric’s memorial and the last meal at school, Harry still managed to find Ron in one of the farthest lavatories. Without a word he sat behind Ron on the cold tiles and placed a hand on his back as he retched. With a sigh Harry leaned forward, resting his forehead atop his own hand on Ron’s shoulder blade. He was so tired… but Ron must have been so tired too.

“Don’t.” Harry muttered when he realized Ron was gasping apologies into the bowl. Ron moved to sit up and wiped his mouth with the sleeve of his robe. Harry sat up giving Ron more room, but he left his hand where it was.

“Harry?” Ron asked with a shudder. The cold from the floor seeped into his bones and was making him shake uncontrollably.

“What is it?” Harry asked quietly, staring at the back of his friend’s head.

“What’s wrong with me?” Ron whispered. Harry hesitated and lifted his hand from Ron’s back. He tilted his head, trying to get a look at his face, but Ron was resolutely looking the other way.

“I don’t know,” Harry said finally.

“Do you think it will ever stop?”

“…I hope so.”

***  
Things started to change in their fifth year. Their problems were multiplied by Dolores Umbridge and the hardly recognized return of Voldemort. There was no way Harry could still be finding time or energy to sit on the cold floor next to a friend who was making himself sick for no reason.

Except he did.

Meals seemed to be getting better overall, but there were still bad days. And Harry was usually able to pick up on those kinds of days.  
Earlier in the term, while Ron was using the sink to wash bile from his chin, Harry broke the usual silence.

“I think you should tell Hermione.”

Ron abruptly stopped running water through his fingertips and turned the faucet off with a jerk.

“No.”

“Ron, I think she’s partially figured it out already.”

“Did you say something to her?”

“No,” Harry wrinkled his brow, offended by the accusation. “It’s Hermione. She’s cleverer than us both. She has to know something’s wrong by now.”

Ron shook his head. “You can’t tell her anything. She won’t understand.”

“Ron,” Harry threw his arms in the air, “I don’t understand it and neither do you!”

Ron stormed away from Harry that day without looking back. Ron wasn’t sure why he was so angry. Wasn’t he being an awful burden on his friend? Could he really blame Harry for wanting to push these problems onto someone else? Nobody wants to be friends with someone who has such an obvious defect. It was just food and eating! One of the most basic parts of life and Ron Weasley found a way to mess it up.

Late that night, Ron lay awake in bed listening to the snores of the others. He wondered if Harry was still awake too.

“I’m sorry,” Ron mumbled into the darkness. There was a moment of near silence as Ron sighed and closed his eyes to try to finally sleep.

“It’s alright,” was the soft reply, almost too quiet to hear.

Ron fell into a deep sleep after that.

***  
Shortly before December, Harry had an accident on the Quidditch pitch and ended up in the hospital wing with a concussion and a fractured cheek. He only had to stay overnight and he was surprised to wake up around dinner time to find Ron still sitting by his bedside.

“What’s wrong?” Harry asked, bleary from sleep and wincing at the pain from the one side of his face. Ron gave a noncommittal shrug.

“Have you eaten?” Harry asked, feeling a pang of hunger from his own stomach. Ron shook his head. He hadn’t eaten without Harry in a long time. They had built up a routine with their plates and Ron felt like if he walked out to dinner with only Hermione, the whole system they had created would fall apart completely. Ron would go back to being sick after every meal and maybe there would be no coming back from it this time.

After Harry had gently placed his glasses on his face, he sighed heavily. He looked so tired. You’re killing your best friend with your problems, a voice whispered in the back of Ron’s mind. An apology began to form in Ron’s throat, but he was cut off when Harry sat up in bed.

“Can you go get a plate of food from the Great Hall and bring it back here? I’m hungry. We can share it.”

Ron gave a slow nod and moved to stand, but stopped abruptly.

“I’m going to tell Hermione.” The words were out of Ron’s mouth before he had given them much thought. Harry raised an eyebrow.

“Right now?”

“No!” Ron said too loudly, waving his hands a bit frantically. “Later. Some other time…”

“If you don’t want to tell her, you don’t have to…” Harry trailed off, too hurt and drowsy to be having this conversation properly.

“I’ll tell her later,” Ron said determinedly. Harry sighed again.

“Alright.”

Ron didn’t miss the look of relief that crossed his friend’s features.

***  
‘Later’ turned out to be much later than either of them thought it would be.

It was the summer after their sixth year…

Hermione cried.

Ron wished he could stop hurting his friends.

***  
Before the three of them left to track down the horcruxes, Hermione assured Ron that they had enough food and they would not run out. Ron felt stupid, but that reassurance helped him much more than he wanted to let on. Hermione smiled sadly at him and Ron hated that.

Their first night on their own, Ron stared down at his small plate of food and felt a familiar sense of panic begin to set in. This wasn’t enough, they were going to run out, they would starve out here this was worse than before he couldn’t do this he couldn’t

Harry nipped the roll from his plate, ripped it in half and then handed the bigger piece back to Ron.

Ron blinked in surprise, immediately finding his thoughts derailed.

“It will be alright,” Harry said as he turned back to his own plate. Ron gave a nod.

“Alright,” Ron echoed.

He took a single bite from his bread.

THE END


End file.
